


The Heart And The Rose

by CescaLR



Series: The Time After Everything (Season 4 AU) [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (to this fic), Druids, F/M, Gen, Lydia POV, Magic development!!! Basically, Mandy POV, Mandy scares me what have I done, Ravens, Sorry Not Sorry, The Morrigan - Freeform, anyway, etc etc etc, for the second part (and onwards if I feel like adding any more, liberal use of celtic mythology, of her backstory), teen wolf messes with it's mythos so much I don't think me doing, the oc is a major part of this 'verse from now on so you know, the raven, this is that much worse, trickster spirits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: A Briar is defined as any of a number of prickly scrambling shrubs, especially a wild rose. A heart is an organ, it keeps the blood pumping around the body and ultimately keeps you alive. Alternatively, heart has been used in many idioms. Lydia finds 'to get to the heart of' to be quite fitting right now - Lydia will find out who this Mandy Briarheart is; she will get to the heart of this mystery.





	1. Get to the Heart Of Things. (And Only End Up More Confused)

A briar is defined as any of a number of prickly scrambling shrubs, especially a wild rose. A heart is an organ, it keeps the blood pumping around the body and ultimately keeps you alive. Alternatively, the word 'heart' has been used in many idioms. Lydia finds 'to get to the heart of' to be quite fitting right now - Lydia will find out who this Mandy Briarheart is; she will get to the heart of this mystery.

Lydia gets up on Monday morning wholly determined to have at least spoken to the junior once by the end of the day. Lydia gets up, washes, gets dressed and does her makeup. She has breakfast at the table and is out the door perfectly on-time to be slightly early for school.

Once she arrives, Lydia scours the outside of the school for this Mandy girl - glares at the base of the tree she usually sits at, keeps roaming her eyes over the parking lot, but she doesn't see her. Slightly disappointed Lydia waits for the others - Scott and Kira arrive quick enough, but Malia and Stiles arrive a little too close to the start of homeroom for Lydia's liking.

They apologize, Lydia nods in acceptance and doesn't wait - just starts walking. Perhaps she will catch Mandy on her way to homeroom; Lydia isn't adverse to missing the pointless session once if it means she gets what she wants out of today. 

Lydia doesn't see her, of course. This trend continues through Econ and AP Biology, and then it's break and Lydia makes a beeline for the tree she'd been told Mandy hangs out under. Lydia finds nobody there but doesn't let this deter her - she waits on one of the nearby tables, pretending to read a book, but the girl doesn't show up. It's about three-quarters of the way through break and Lydia could do with a drink, so she gets up to go to the vending machine. She keeps her eye out the whole time for Mandy but doesn't see her. 

Then she has Calculus, and then it's lunch, and Lydia makes a beeline for the library. Lydia spots Mandy - her hair isn't brown, it's more of a plum colour now, but her face is as described and so Lydia approaches her. 

"Mandy Briarheart, correct?" Lydia starts off. The other girl turns to her, slowly, and simply stares.

"You're _her_ ," Mandy says. Lydia frowns at the other girl. "I'm Lydia Martin," Lydia introduces herself, slowly. "I wanted to ask you a few questions if that was-"

Lydia doesn't get to finish her sentence. 

"I - I have to go," Mandy says, " _Now."_ Mandy throws a hand out in Lydia's direction which... makes her stumble a little. Lydia shakes her head to clear it and frowns at the other girl, confused; she wasn't exactly sure if that was supposed to do anything or not, but either way, it didn't. Lydia steps forward, about to start talking again - but Mandy has other plans. "Shit," Tumbles out of the other girl's mouth, before she blindly reaches into her bag and retrieves some perfume.

Or, at least Lydia  _thinks_ it's perfume. It is in a perfume bottle, though that could just be a disguise. Well, whatever it is is a white-ish mist and it hits her in the face and  _god,_ it  _hurts,_ and Lydia really does have to stop in her tracks this time. 

Once she's recovered, the other girl is gone.

"...Bitch." Lydia mutters, wiping at her eyes. This might be harder than expected.

* * *

Lydia has to eat at some point, so she goes to the cafeteria. Lydia grabs some food and spots Mandy, but keeps her distance - although she does sit on the side of the table that lets her keep an eye on the girl. 

"Who are you staring at?" Stiles asks between bites of his - dubiously in-date 'mystery meat'. 

"How can you even eat that?" Lydia asks, and Stiles - shrugs. Lydia has a feeling he's not really eating it, considering, but she won't say anything about that. Stiles and Malia and all of them (really) have had to deal with a lot, lately, she doesn't want to bring up what's been going on while they're trying to eat.

"Not an answer..." Stiles leads, ignores that that wasn't an answer to her own question either.

Lydia sighs, glares in Mandy's direction. "I approached her," She nodded towards the girl, "And she attacked me."

Scott immediately zeroes in on her. "Are you alright?" He asks, frowns and looks over Lydia for any sign of damage. The others do the same - Malia, Stiles, Kira - and Lydia nods. "I'm fine." She said, truthfully, "She sprayed something from a perfume bottle into my face, but I don't know what it was. I am okay, though."

Scott nodded and turned his attention towards Mandy. "I don't want you to get involved," Lydia demands. "You hear me?"

Scott nods, dubious and slow, and Lydia thinks Mandy's gonna get a kind-hearted talking to in the near future. Lydia can't exactly say she's sorry, so Lydia doesn't say anything at all.

* * *

 

"Do you want our help?" Malia and Stiles corner her after History, and Lydia - pauses. It could be useful, she reflects. Lydia doesn't really want anyone else to interfere, but, well, the both of them have something she doesn't: a way to tell why Mandy attacked her and why she ran away when Lydia approached. 

"Alright," Lydia allows. "See if you can get what she's thinking and feeling when I approach her, okay? If she attacks feel free to interfere."

Stiles and Malia nod, serious. Lydia decides missing the next lesson isn't the highest sacrifice she's ever made in the name of supernatural shenanigans, not by a long shot, so she leads the way.

* * *

Lydia corners Mandy after the last lesson of the day. She takes her by surprise and manages to get her down the next corridor, which nobody's in right now, as the school day has ended. Still, Lydia glances around to make sure, and this is when Mandy tries to make her escape.

"Oh no you don't-" Lydia grabs Mandy and spins her around, shoves her so she stumbles backward. "What the hell was that about earlier?" Lydia demands. "You  _attacked me._ For no reason. I repeat; What. The. Hell."

"I'm sorry," Mandy says. "I can't talk to you right now. Please stop trying to contact me."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "A reason, if you may?" Lydia requests, impatient.

"I can't talk to you," Mandy says, slowly, as if she was talking to a particularly dense child. Lydia reserves the right to feel highly offended.

"Oh yes, you can," Lydia says, glares at the other girl. "You  _attacked me._ The least you can do is answer a few questions."

"Look," Mandy says, drops the monotone and flat act. "I  _just_ got out of Eichen, alright? If they find out I'm doing this shit again, they'll throw me back in there."

Lydia feels slightly sympathetic, but not enough to stop questioning her. 

"And two of my friends are ex Eichen residents. You can bond while I interrogate you." Lydia tells her, impatient still, and Mandy huffs. "Malia and Stiles, right?" Mandy asks rhetorically. "I'm still not answering anything you have to ask me."

"Too bad," Lydia says. "We're not leaving here until you do."

Mandy glowers at Lydia and reaches out all of a sudden to shove her out of the way. Taken by surprise, Lydia stumbles, and this is enough to let Mandy past. 

Unfortunately for her, Mandy bangs into some invisible wall when she hits the end of the corridor. Mandy snarls in frustration, slams her fist against said wall and slides down to a seated position.

"Mountain ash." She says, resigned and tone full of derision, and Lydia nods. "You will talk," Lydia says as if it were fact. "Or you won't leave this corridor ever. Because you aren't leaving until you do."

* * *

 

Mandy stubbornly remains silent for at least another hour. Lydia's more than a little frustrated. By this time, Stiles and Malia have made themselves known - Stiles is standing next to Lydia (or more accurately leaning against the lockers and massaging his forehead out of frustration) and Malia is mimicking Mandy by leaning against the barrier made by the mountain ash. 

Mandy lifts her head and smirks lazily up at them. "Bored yet?" She asks, and Lydia feels the urge to swear at her, but doesn't.

"Just talk already," Stiles demands half-heartedly, voice tired and everything about him screaming worn-out frustration. 

"What're you gonna do?" Mandy mocks. "Make me?"

" _Yes,"_ Stiles practically snarls out, glares and  _glares_ at her, then falters and steps back ."If you don't say anything." Stiles continues, tone heavy but more his own, "We're gonna have to."

Mandy grins at him, lax and uncaring. "Alright then." She says. "I'll pretend you aren't so terrified of yourself that if you do even the slightest thing that could be considered wrong your brain goes into a spiral of self-loathing."

Stiles glowers at her and says nothing. Lydia rubs at her own forehead. She's got a headache now. Just great. 

"I'm not gonna tell you anything, Banshee," Mandy says. "I'm not gonna tell the fellow crazies anything either, so you all can stuff it and just let me go, thanks."

Lydia can see Malia's hand curl into a fist, but she says and does nothing else in response to that. Stiles' lips thin, as if he's pulling them against his teeth, and he turns and paces, taps an incessant rhythm onto his thigh.

"Hey, Stilinski," Mandy says, and continues without waiting for a response, "You ever gonna follow through on your threat or what? I'm bored. A mental fight could be fun."

"It wouldn't be a fight," Stiles says, cooly.

"Nah, you're right," Mandy says, confident -  _arrogant,_ Lydia thinks. "I'd win before you even tried."

"Anyway," Mandy smirks. "It's a little - overwhelming, isn't it? getting inside someone's head. Granted, we have different skills and everything, but the end result is practically the same."

"Shut up," Stiles says, grinds his teeth together, and Lydia moves forwards, crouches in front of Mandy. "You've  _had_ your fun," Lydia says, a final thing. "Now tell me."

"Fine," Mandy rolls her eyes. "In Eichen house, there's a girl called Meridith. Don't trust her. She truly is not what she seems. Also a psychopath? Not fun to have as your creepy uncle. Don't trust him either. He's got an ace up his sleeve, and you don't want him to use it."

"...They aren't answers." Lydia says."I've never even met a single Meridith, why would I need to go to Eichen house to meet her, and also - Peter? He's not up to anything right now, as far as we're aware."

Mandy looks at her flatly. "It's just good advice, Banshee," She says, ominously. "Here's another bit - The kind of power you've got? Really needs controlling. Your screams are explosions, Lydia Martin. I'd make them bullets before they explode the heads of each and every one of your friends and family."

Lydia feels a chill down her spine and backs up. "You don't know what you're talking about." She says, and Stiles turns, glares at Mandy.

"And  _you,"_ Mandy says, mockingly,  _"Stilinski._ You're running out of time. The nogitsune wants something you definitely don't want, and the only way to break free from that is to do what it wants before it wants it. That body isn't your own, it was never meant to be."

"It is my own," Stiles says cooly. "Lydia's right, you have no idea about what you're talking about."

Mandy shrugs. "Maybe so regarding you." She allows. "But then... a spark, a nogitsune... separate they're dangerous. Connected - " She pauses, and a smile slowly spreads across her face.

"Void consumes. A spark ignites. There's a lot of power there, Stiles. Try not to throw the balance."

Mandy turns her head to Malia. "And try not to bring her down with you," She adds, almost as an afterthought. "Though the nemeton might have already made that impossible."

Mandy turns to look back at Stiles, expression serious. "It may not be a force of good, but it has your best interests at heart, Stiles." She says. "The nemeton has plans. The nogitsune has plans. If I were you, I'd go with the lesser evil."

* * *

 

Lydia's annoyed. 

"We learnt nothing," She says, angry. "She told us nothing except vaguery, and they weren't even riddles."

"Personally I'm glad about that," Stiles offers, "Though concrete info would have been nice."

Malia grimaces. "I don't like any of what she said."

"And I don't think we've seen the last of her," Stiles added, then frowned. "I'd like us to have, but there's this horrible feeling we've done something irreversible."

Lydia didn't want to voice her agreement - it might not be true, what he says, but Lydia's a banshee. 

And her throat is starting to itch.

* * *

 

 

 


	2. A Life I've Lived (Lived In Context. Lived In Lies.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovable. Worthy of love. Her mother was either an incredibly naive optimist, or her father was a fucking idiot - Mandy Briarheart is neither Lovable or worthy of love. She is loveless.

Mandy; a Latin baby name. It means Lovable - someone worthy of love. Her mother was either an incredibly naive optimist, or her father was a fucking idiot; Mandy Briarheart is neither Lovable or Worthy of love. She is loveless. 

Her last name makes more sense - at least Mandy has that. Briarheart; a prickly heart. The girl with the thorny heart. Dangerous soul. It originates from somewhere that was once Celtic - druidic. Mandy's family is a long line of Druids... but Mandy's no druid. 

Morrigan. The Raven; Druidic goddess. A war goddess, a healer, life or death or both - depending on who you ask. 

That's the thing about the supernatural. Belief is a large part of it; Mandy's family has believed Morrigan to be a goddess for years.

Mandy is the first in... a long time... to think of her as the Raven. A spirit gave shape which a human could understand; earth, life, death, nurture, revitalize. A woman; a mother. An executioner. Who cares? 

To Mandy - she symbolises  _power._

To Mandy - she  _is_ power. 

(Mandy - she is the Morrigan of this story. Not a goddess, not anywhere near as important. But necessary in the cycle of things... at least, according to her beliefs.)

(Ms Morell might not think her necessary, for example, although they follow similar teachings. The reason for that is simple - Mandy didn't need to go full 'dark oak' to get the powers she has. 

She was born with them.)

Mandy is the Raven. The Raven, not exactly Morrigan but as a spirit unto itself, is a trickster. Mandy isn't evil; in some mythologies, like Norse, for example, Ravens symbolise knowledge. 

In others... an omen of death. 

(Mandy was an Eichen house resident. She wasn't like Stiles - she didn't put herself there. Mandy was an Eichen house resident. She wasn't like Malia - her parents didn't put her there because they didn't know what to do with this daughter they didn't recognise.

No. The real reason she was there -

It is best not spoken of. Even teenagers can do despicable things; sometimes, it is  _especially_ teenagers.

Mandy isn't 'crazy'. Isn't mentally ill, either. Perhaps that is what makes her so terrifying. There is no real reason for why she did what she did - in a court, she would not be able to plead insanity.

Yes. That is what some people might think is scariest about Mandy Briarheart.

... You have _no_ idea.)

* * *

 

Mandy Briarheart was ten years old when she discovered her powers were her own. She's no spark, nor is she a human using sacrifice and-or inner strength to cast magic. 

Mandy Briarheart being a spark would perhaps be the worst world of all. But that is not this world, so that is not the daunting prospect we have to deal with. 

On that summer's day in mid-July, Mandy was in a clearing. Mandy was ten years old, that much is true. Did she have brown hair, or was it blonde? Who knows. Her eyes are a violent grey now... but they were blue, then. 

The colour has drained from her, in the years between then and now. She dyes her hair for more reasons than that she likes to. 

"Mama!" She called out. What accent did she have? Mandy doesn't know, doesn't remember.

A lot's happened since then. The specifics she forgets - the major points, those... those she remembers  _clearly._

"What is it, sweetie?" Her mother had said. Was it sweetie? Pumpkin? Sweetheart? 

Mandy forgets that too. It's been over five years since she last saw her mother - the woman is alive, of course. Sometimes, a father raises a daughter alone. 

(Her mother hadn't left because she'd hated Mandy's father. That much, Mandy knows with certainty.

She wasn't lying to Stilinski Jr. Mandy didn't have empathy, but she had telepathy, in a roundabout way.)

"Mama, can I go play with the horses?" She'd asked. Mandy had had a brief fascination with horses at that age - it would likely have gone away on its own within a week if the events of that day hadn't happened. 

"No, dear," Her mother had said, both sternly and with care. Compassion.

Her mother was a lovely woman. Mandy was glad she was gone. 

(Is she still glad? Mandy doesn't know. She doesn't know whether she and her mother would get along, nowadays, at any rate.

At any rate, she knows they'd get along  _horribly.)_

"But I want to play!" Mandy had said, stomping her foot like a petulant child. She had been a petulant child; sometimes, Mandy forgets this. Forgets that she hadn't taken years to get to the point she'd gotten to so easily that day, and from that day forward. 

Mandy forgets that she hadn't been twenty when she first started using magic, as was the custom in her family (to avoid the nasty tampering of teenage hormones and the temptations they gave, her family had believed) but ten, instead. 

Perhaps that was why they'd never really trusted her after that. Perhaps that was why she'd lorded it over them. 

(Or perhaps the latter was the cause of the former. It's that thing again; the chicken, or the egg?

The egg. Eggs were laid long before Chickens came into existence, after all. Mandy had always been arrogant. That much was simply _fact._ )

"I know, dear, we can go to your uncle's ranch this weekend, how does that sound?"

"But I want to play  _now!"_ She'd whined, and her mother, from what Mandy remembers, had sighed. "Mandy -"

Mandy doesn't remember why she'd done it. Or what she'd done, exactly. She just knew she'd been angry because her mother wasn't letting her have  _fun._

One second, her mother was in front of her - the next, she was sliding down the bark of a tree trunk. 

Mandy remembers that she'd frowned, at the time. A little ten-year-old girl in dungarees and a t-shirt, with muddy trainers and a choppy haircut. A grown-ass woman, staring at her daughter like she'd never seen her before and that she was -

_Scared._

(Incidents like that one got worse, over time. Her mother hadn't left because she'd hated Mandy's father - no, on the contrary. She'd begged him to go with her.)

"I  _want_ to  _play_ with the  _horses."_ Mandy had repeated. Her mother was still staring at her.

Mandy hadn't discovered telepathy for a few more years after that. Perhaps that is how her mother managed what her father never did - to leave. 

(Mandy discovered her 'mind-reading' a week after her mother had left. She - she hadn't used it... well.)

"... Let me call your father first," Her mother had said. Mandy hadn't noticed she'd been shaking at the time - years later, now, looking back, she can tell all too well.

(Her mother had been a  _coward.)_

* * *

Mandy is what you'd call a wild card. Whether she's doing good or doing bad is entirely up to her mood that day - and may whatever you believe in help you if you cross her when she's feeling  _angry._

Or worse... 

_Bored._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bits of backstory for my girl Mandy. She terrifies me, holy shit. So you know, that was a pine tree she threw her mother against. Halfway up; it's only her mother's own magic that meant she didn't hurt anything.


	3. In the Deep Dark Woods (Where Monsters Play Pretend.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because a monster is a monster, whether or not you love it.

Stiles - Stiles shouldn't be out here. At least not alone. The last time he was in the preserve, well, he wasn't exactly - or... well, he was himself, he just wasn't  _himself,_ and also he got kidnapped by a tree.

Which. Not very fun, he doesn't reccomend that.

Still. Stiles shouldn't be out here. But out here he is, all the same, because...

Well. That part involves the little box he'd been saddled with. 

"Hi." Stiles said, to the tree roots, keeping a safe distance away from them in the cramped root cellar. "Again."

 _Hello, dear Sacrifice,_ it replied.  _I see you've brought our little Fox-Fly back to us._

Stiles gulped. "In a sense." He said. 

 _They want you to kill them,_ the Nemeton 'said', and Stiles could detect a warning in the tone used.  _They want an heir._

"Noshiko didn't explain what that meant," Stiles said, cautiously. "Just that it worked differently to a kitsune having a kid. Or a doppleganger for a kid. She said that - that He was - or, or is my... 'Mirror.'"

 _The Poisoner is correct,_ the tree confirmed.  _It is different, yet the same. Power transferral... that is the most important part._

"I don't want it." Stiles said, forcefully. "I never wanted  _any_ of this! I said  _no,_ alright, over a year ago when I could have had power because  _I never wanted this,_ not even a little."

_Little Spark, the Twice Lived Wolf was right. You lie to yourself. You want **power,** you **like** control. And **that's** why you refused - because **you** **were scared.** That's why your nature has hidden itself for so long -  **becaue you were scared. Little** **Spark** , your soul tires of hiding.  **I** tire of **you** **hiding**. _

**_You cant stop being what you are, Sacrifice. You are a Spark in soul, a Shell in body, and a Void in power. That is simple, and that is all._ **

**Stiles glared at the roots.**

_Kill it._ The Nemeton said, forcefully.  _Kill it, and be done with it. They want an Heir - let them have one. Or don't. Once it's dead, that part is up to you._

"I don't know how," Stiles said. 

_Yes. You do._

"I -  _I can't do that,_ " Stiles said. "I just - fucking God, I  _refuse,_ okay?"

_I amplified your abilites for a **reason** little Spark. Our link is still there - I am  **inside your head.** And I will be.  **Forever.**_

The lid flew off the box, thrown by some unseen force. 

 ** _Kill it._** The Nemeton murmur-yelled, in Stiles' head, in his ears.  _Take **everything.** Take it's _ ** _pain,_** _take it **all,** then  **take the rest, too.**_

**_Break it's mind. You are a Spark, young Sacrifice._  **

**Burn it from the inside.**

Stiles sucked in a shuddering breath. The weight of the Nemeton's power, in this place, on this convergence of Ley Lines, stuck in his head because he died to save his father - 

(In the end, you can only withstand so much pressure.)

Stiles closed his eyes. 

(If the Nogitsune had had to touch to feed, it wouldn't have done some of they ploys it had. Like the Strife in the loft, for example - he hadn't touched Stiles' Dad or Argent, and they were the ones feeling the emotions he needed at that moment. Sure, he'd gathered everyone for protection - but he didn't need it, really. The oni had proved to be no match for him before. 

In the end, he'd fed on the ambient mood. He'd fed on individual moods - individual emotions, emotions other than  _pain -_ without coming into contact with those that were feeling them  _once.)_

_(So, in theory. **Stiles can do that too.)**_

The nogitsune was easy to pick out, since there were only three beings here - Stiles himself, who didn't really count, the tree, which also didn't really count, and the Nogitsune in question. 

The pain was loudest. Stiles focused on it, felt for it mentally, focused hard enogh and visualised grasping onto it tightly enough that he  _felt it,_ felt the transfer, felt the  ** _energy energy healing healing_ food **of it, felt the sheer releif and, for once, for the first time, with memories of thsi creature hurting his friends and killing people with Stiles' own two hands, Stiles  _pulled harder._

**_The pain flowed freely, over a thousand years worth of it but most of that recent, within the last fifty years, within the last few months. It petered out though, because people didn't have an endless supply of pain, that just wasn't possible, and as much as the Nogitsune had it it had fed on most of it out of sheer necessity when he'd started starving during those fifty years - but he ran out, evnetually, he did as any creature would, but Stiles wasn't done - he couldn't be, because the nogitsune, now pain-free, could get up again and fly away and hurt more people and Stiles couldn't - he couldn't have that not even a little bit so he followed that threat, that pain, found emotions it linked with that and found_ pleasure  _and found_ anger  _and found_ everything, one link to the next  _and drained it_ all  _and kept draning it, kept taking it until there was nothing left and Stiles could see, plainly, under all the emotional noise now that it was gone, the core of the creature - it's self, and the sheer size of that, due to just how_ old  _the nogitsune was, and he delved, followed mental pathways and found_ Mirror, Purpose, Nature,  _he found everything that made the nogitsune what it was then_ took it apart,  _analysed it then tossed it aside when he'd figured out what he wanted to figure out becaue he_ needed to know _he just_ did,  _and it didn't matter what happened to it because he didn't_ care,  _it had done awful things and Stiles couldn't care_ less  _about Him -_**

**_And then. There was a final thread. It snapped, easily, under the pressure of Their weight - Stiles_ hated it  _and the_ _Nemeton_ was disgusted by the parisite  _and with it's hooks in Stiles, in the nogitsune, it added that little bit of extra pressure that Stiles needed -_**

**_The last thread_ snapped. ** _The nogitsune was -_

Gone. Stiles blinked down at the empty box. The light coming through the opening to the cellar had changed, qutie drastically. For how long Stiles had been here, he didn't know. Whatever it was he'd done, because the memories were murky, for now - though he  _knew,_ with  _sheer certainty,_ that they'd clear and come back to him as time passed - he wasn't sure, but the Nemeton seemed - pleased. 

 ** _Here, Spark,_** it said, and something ** _heavy_** pressed down in Stiles' head.  _It is time to choose._

Stiles, already dazed, found it easy to slip into unconsciousness - even with, or especially because of - the  **crushing pressure** in his head. 

* * *

Mandy heard footsteps, and then a crash.

"You're home," He said, numbly. Mandy rolled her eyes and turned down the volume on the TV - American Horror Story was... alright, she supposed. She'd stick with it.

"Plainly," Mandy said, turning her head and leaning on the armrest. She looked up at her father, who cowered. 

"I thought -"

"You're an idiot," Mandy interrupted. "Shut the fuck up and  _sit down."_

The man moved immediately to follow her order, and sat precariously on the edge of the armchair. 

" _Relax,"_ Mandy rolled her eyes, and he did - reluctant, but his shoulders dropped and he leaned back in the chair regardless. The glass of water he'd been holding and the plate of food lay forgotton on the floor - he can clean it up later. Right now, Mandy has some  _choice words_ for her father. 

"I'm home," Mandy said. "You'll be safe again. But there is just  _one_ thing..."

The man, still under orders to relax, couldn't tense up - not physically, not mentally. He was afraid, though, and Mandy could see that. 

"You went to see mom while I was in Eichen House." Mandy said, calmly. She stopped leaning on the armrest of the couch and leaned forward, rested her arms on her knees and looked straight at her father. "Don't lie to me, by the way. I mean, you  _can't,_ but I'd prefer if you willingly told me the truth."

"I did." Her father wasn't looking at her.

" _Look at me."_ Mandy snapped, and his head jerked to the right, fast and against his will. Magic was useful, even if it was a bit annoying that she had to be careful not to break the man's neck. 

Mandy leaned forward. "You realise she has a new life now, right? A new life, a new job, a new partner, a new kid. She left this life behind  _years_ ago. Hasn't touched druidic magic since she asked you to go with her and you didn't. It was  _your choice_ to stay, Dad. Don't burden the woman with your presence.  _She doesn't want you there."_

"We're friends." Her father said, sharply. "Just because we had a divorce-"

Mandy stood, abrupt, and a vase shattered. "You didn't have a divorce." She said, cooly. "Mom  _abandoned_ us. Abandoned  ** _you._** Left you.... with  ** _me."_**

"Sweetheart," Her father said, placating. He couldn't stand. "Your mother couldn't stand the politics of our families - being a druid was just too much, in the end, but that doesn't mean she abandoned us, she just-"

"Shut up." Mandy said. He complied. 

"She left you with me," Mandy said. "Tell me. How many times have I nearly killed you?"

"Nineteen."

"That you can remember." Mandy said, cooly. 

"... That I can remember."

"Mom never gave a shit about you." Mandy said. "She was the smart one. You're just a fucking idiot that can't even use magic anymore. You're  _pathetic."_

Silence. Silence. Silence.

" _ **Get out!"**_ Mandy yelled at him - threw her hand out and the front door blasted open, breaking the locks. 

Her father took a breath - shaky,  _weak._ He stood, and he left - mechanical, forced.

"Stay in a hotel." Mandy ordered. "I'll call you when you can come back."

Mandy waited until she heard the car leave the drive, until she couldn't sense her father any more - and then, after a beat, threw her amrs out as she yelled, her head snapping back and her eyes bleeding pure white - and smashed every valuable decoration in the house. 

* * *

He finally stopped moving when he was situated in a hotel, sat on the bed in the shitty room.

Darren sighed, and rubbed at his face, as he waited for the fuzziness to pass. He'd hoped - but no. She hadn't gone to Eichen house... Darren couldn't exactly remember why his daughter had gone there, but...

It didn't matter. Darren carefully laid back on the bed, wincing as he rubbed his neck. His daughter could be a bit -  _violent,_ but... she _cared._

Mandy would have killed him by now if she didn't. Darren isn't  _delusional,_ he'd be dead in a ditch if she didn't care at least a little. 

Morrigan. The Raven. Trickster spirit. 

Whatever Changeling had replaced his darling Mandy at birth - that... girl, that girl is still the one he raised. The one he grew to love as his own daughter. It's not the Changeling's fault, it's nature, nor it's purpose, nor that it was placed with them, in the stead of their daughter. 

But he misses her. Misses that little baby girl, with the big eyes and the bells of laughter. He can remember those early days more clearly than most things - definitely more than anything before her birth. And anything during the years just before and after Angela left. 

_Angela._

Darren closed his eyes. But he couldn't sleep yet. The man sighed, and stood, then stretched. Age had set in on him earlier than it should, and it showed in the stiffness of his joints, the grey of his hair. Still, the druid needed to protect this place; he wasn't about to sleep somewhere where he could get attacked at any notice. 

Darren shook his head, as if to clear the last dregs of fuzziness, and set about casting protections. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi wtf it's been five hundred years but here's another chapter


End file.
